Folie à deux
by cosipotente
Summary: "Gareki is my treasured person. He is important to me." (GarekixNai)


Gareki waited at the school gate, flipping his phone open and closed impatiently. The bell signaling school was over had long since chimed and, yet, Nai's figure hadn't been among the crowd that filed out of the gates. What a great end to their first day, Gareki thought sardonically. He had half a mind to leave the little idiot to find his own way back to the apartment. Flipping his phone open, his eyes landed 'STUPID YOGI'and Gareki scraped that idea.

The last time he left Nai alone to find his own way home—never mind that it was at a convenience store less than a block away—Gareki had to console a sobbing Nai (and that kid could wail) and deal with Yogi's tearful beratement. What 21 year old man cried while lecturing another male? Just thinking about his guardian's gross crying face made him shiver.

Gareki snapped his phone shut with finality. He would have to fetch the brat on his own, seeing as how he wasn't answering Gareki's mails.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder again, Gareki made his way back into the school. When Nai had told him his class number, Gareki had pretended to not hear him, too busy fixing the computer Yogi almost ruined. Gareki had a natural ability to retain information though, even trivial things told to him in passing, or things he only half listens to.

Nai's classroom was empty when Gareki slid the door open.

"Tch." He slid the door closed with a little more foce than neccessary, aggrivation burning hot in his veins. Reaching in his pocket, Gareki fiddled with his phone. He debated about calling Nai. If the little idiot was with a teacher, he could get in trouble for using his cellphone; it would serve Nai right for getting called out by a teacher in the first place.

Gareki took his phone out, flipped it open, and scrolled through his short contact list until he found 'STUPID KID.' The other line beeped, connecting the call. After a moment, he heard the cheery ringtone Nai insisted on using for Gareki sound from some point down the hall. He kept his phone pressed to his ear and moved in the direction of the sound.

"Nai-chan, who's Gareki?"

He stopped outside of a classroom a few doors down from Nai's, letting the phone continue to ring.

"Ah!"

Gareki recognized that exclamation. He heard it in a myriad of tones; his favorite included when Nai breathed the sound into his ear when Gareki pushed into him in the dark of night. He had come to know every sound Nai could make over the few years the two of them had been together. They had been orphaned at young ages, Gareki as infant, Nai as a toddler. They had been left in the care of the Karneval Foundation; a circus, as Gareki liked to call it, of wayward and abandoned children.

Nai had stuck to Gareki like glue when he had saved the pipsqueak from a caretaker who liked to abuse her status as an authority figure.

"Gareki is my treasured person. He is important to me."

His face burned from Nai's admission.

Nai's response drew a series of "eh's" from the girls he was apparently surrounded by. Their reactions were to be expected. Nai's way of speaking was odd, he had no brain to mouth filter and just spoke aloud whatever he was thinking. It was a weird trait for someone Nai's age; to be so honest and innocent in a world that did it's best to crush things like those into nothingness.

Gareki liked that about the younger boy—loved it even, though he would never admit it outloud.

The girl who had Nai's phone aburptly ignored the call, pissing Gareki off. It was obvious what had happened: they swept Nai up in their idiocy. He was the type of cute that all the girls liked to coo and fuss over. Not to mention, Nai was an airhead of the worst type.

Gareki slid the door open, knocking it off of it's track with a loud clatter. He leaned against the door frame, eyes narrowed. The six girls surrounding Nai jumped, some of them gasping in fright. Sat between them, Nai stared at Gareki with his wide, red eyes. He had his lap full of sweets while his hair was a treasure trove of girly pins and barrettes.

He looked like an idiot and Gareki refused to walk home with him looking like that. Gareki walked over to Nai, pulling him away from the girls as they tried to clutch at him.

"Gareki?" He tipped his head to the side in that questioning manner of his.

Gareki picked each and everyone of the stupid things stuck in Nai's hair out, tossing them to the ground.

"You can't take him." One of the braver girls said, stepping forward as if to challenge Gareki.

He snorted at her in response. "Watch me."

Gareki hefted Nai over his shoulder; he weighed next to nothing. He gave the girls a smirk and carried Nai out of the school like that, only setting him down when they reached the school gates.

"Don't do off with people you don't know." Gareki chided, adding a soft whack to the back of Nai's head for good measure. The younger boy nodded.

"Gareki—" Nai started, but Gareki interrupted him.

"You should call me senpai."

"Gareki-senpai," Nai amended, "let's hold hands."

Gareki blanched. "Who would want to? You can definitely walk home alone, stupid."

He walked a little faster, putting a few feet of distance between him and Nai before stopping. Nai jogged to catch up with him and Gareki held out his hand, rolling his eyes at the way Nai's eyes lit up.


End file.
